


Here Comes the Sun

by dreamonlosers



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Related, Comfort, Gen, Reminiscing, secretly sad but it's very happy otherwise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8374996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamonlosers/pseuds/dreamonlosers
Summary: They thought they could grow old together. Sunday dinners, laughing, smiling. 
It's a moment that will never exist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR SEASON 7 PREMIERE
> 
> Not so much in the fic, but in the notes haha. Well, yeah, rest in piece, Glenn and Abraham (I'm gonna miss that hunky cheeto).
> 
> There was a flash of Team Family around a dinner table as Negan spoke of them thinking they could grow old together. I decided to write it out as a tribute to Glenn and Abraham. They deserved this scene that never truly happened.

HERE COMES THE SUN

There was soft grass beneath her feet and sunshine tickled her skin as she smiles. Scents of fresh greens and roasted chicken decorate the air and reminds her of the Sunday mornings she spent with her father and her little sister before the change. But while she reminiscences in those little moments, she comes to realize that she does not miss them as much as she used to. 

Maggie is smiling, big and cheeky at her husband. Glenn isn't sure what she is smiling about, but he beams back at her and bounces their young daughter on his knee. She giggles when she sees her mother and her gummy grin has an uncanny similarity to her father's and Maggie could just cry.

Across from her, Abraham slaps a leg of chicken on his plate and pours it in some kind of sweet sauce Carol had prepared. It's lightly orange and drips down his fingers, trailing down to his wrist. A napkin lies beside his plate, but he instead cleans it off with his mouth, a low pop with each finger. Maggie's daughter becomes distracted by him, babbling and reaching out.

She jabs a chubby finger at the meat, pinching the air and squealing. Abraham frowns playfully. "Pancakes can't eat chicken, girl." His clean hand reaches out and ruffles the chocolate brown mass of hair on her head.

Glenn is spoon-feeding her a bite of applesauce, a meal she used to never eat until she saw Judith eating it one day and it dribbles down her chin.

The wooden bowl of salad is passed around the table. Rick takes it and passes it to Carl, who holds little Judith in his lap much like Glenn. Most of her baby teeth have grown in by now, so bite sized bits of vegetables sit on her plate as she maneuvers them into her mouth. Even as a toddler, Maggie notices the quirks and looks that remind her so much of the baby's mother, Lori. She would have been proud. 

And Carl, so protective of her as he was with his mother. He's grown now, not quite yet a man and Maggie wants to take that hair of his and cut it off so it won't hide his face. Lori would have wanted the same. She remembers fondly how young Carl would sit in front of Lori as she fussed over his hair, cutting it so the brunette strands, the same shade as hers, fell on the ground.

They all fussed over his hair. Michonne especially, but she wasn't much of a mother to Carl as she was a friend, a companion, someone who made him laugh more than anyone else. Maggie watched Michonne put baby carrots underneath her upper lip like tusks and growls at Judith, who squeals and pretends to hide in Carl's flannel.

The way Rick stares at her brings almost as much light to his eyes as when he looks at his two children; they're a family within a family, an intimacy like an electric current flowing between them and an undying love as the conductor. Rick leans down to kiss Judith's head and then back up to kiss Michonne, a hand cupping her cheek.

Carl cringes. "No, okay, no thanks." He put a hand over Judith's eyes and another over his own.

It's hard to tell, but Rick is blushing and Michonne lifts up Carl's hat to give him a light noogie. He groans and Judith reaches for her food.

She looks over to Sasha and Rosita, who are talking to each other quietly. They always have, even in the tougher times, and Maggie expects that they always will. There are bigger things to think about, better things to talk about and neither of them care to bring up the rest.

They're talking and Eugene turns to them. Maggie can't hear what he says, but Rosita rolls her eyes and Sasha covers her face with her hands but her smile shines through. Without them, Maggie thinks, she never would have found Glenn after the prison fell. She never would have met some of her best friends, some of the most badass women she knew.

The thought makes her heart flutter and tickles her cheeks pink over the sprinkle of freckles.

A light breeze brushes through the table and draws her attention to the flying napkin at the other end. Tara snatches it and gives it back to Denise. They're sitting so close to each other that they could mold into one person. It's sickeningly sweet how they're always touching each other in some way, as if the other would turn to fairy dust if they detach from the other and be carried away by the wind. 

Tara loves Denise and Denise loves her. Tara was like a little sister to Maggie and she was so proud of her, so happy that she found someone she loved after so much loss. After so much guilt. After one mistake.

And Denise, she was a young doctor who could patch up the most serious of wounds but needed Tara to help heal her own. Denise, who was needed by the entirety of Alexandria, and without her, so many would have been lost. 

If anything could be eternal, her gratitude would be at the top of the list for the couple. Strong and loyal to each other, and so young. Maggie wants to promise them the best of the world. 

They're leaning on each other when they pass the bowl to Carol, who is sitting between Daryl and Morgan. She takes her own serving first, something she wouldn't do a while ago, and let the two men beside her get their own.

Morgan and Carol chat idly. It's simple, which is what makes it so uneasy given the differences between Carol and Morgan. Something smoothed out the bumps, something Maggie can't put her finger on. 

Regardless, she's grateful. The group doesn't need tension amongst themselves, what with the world already trying to kill them and all. Tension brought bad endings and Maggie will be damned if history repeats itself (again).

Daryl looks happy, too. His body language tells all; he sits up, looks around at everyone while he tears chicken off the bone. Although still keeping to himself, the hunter seems comfortable with them. It took a while, but they pulled him through.

Like Denise and Tara, Carol and Daryl are sitting close together, except there is a bit of room so that they aren't touching. They never do that. But Maggie remembers when they refused to be close to each other at all and thanks her God that they got past that.

The gentle air of the Sunday afternoon ghosted over her. Alexandria must be on top of hallowed grounds, she thinks, as serenity blesses the family for one moment in time. It makes her glow golden and bright.

"Maggie," Glenn laughs. It brings her attention back to her side of the table. He holds out a napkin and gestures to the corner of her lip.

She doesn't take it. Instead, Maggie rolls her eyes and reaches over to kiss Glenn, kiss her daughter, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for never naming Maggie and Glenn's daughter, I wanted to keep the baby anonymous. I hope Maggie doesn’t lose the child, though.
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated! 
> 
> This work is dedicated to Glenn Rhee and Abraham Porter, two beautiful men who deserved the world.


End file.
